


and the golden globe goes to...

by bonestilts



Series: the loco-motion [2]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, based off the fact that RAMI FORGOT TO MENTION JOE IN THIS SPEECH, i aint mad but, im a little mad, in this fic they're in love, proud of our bunion for winning a globe he deserves it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 04:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17460443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonestilts/pseuds/bonestilts
Summary: Rami didn't mention Joe in his acceptance speech, but he doesn't seem to care.





	and the golden globe goes to...

**Author's Note:**

> okay so if you're not into RPF, don't read this. this is basically just 3k worth of smut w joe/rami. if you're not into that, that's totally cool, just click away. if you ARE into that, that's fkn awesome, and welcome to this fic  
> (ill be honest ive never been a fan of RPF at heart, but my gay mind speaks for me so that's why this exists)  
> i hope y'all like it

The road trip had been Joe’s idea; he’s a known softie for those kinds of things. But the visit to Santa Barbara had been Gwil’s, where he decided to scare both Rami and Ben with a horrid Zodiac killer tale and rob them of sleep the following evening. The short stop at Sherman Oaks was for Rami to visit his family before the ceremony. It was a night event, meaning they had been blessed with a few hours of exploring where Rami had grown up before having to attend.

Ben didn’t get a stop dedicated to him, instead he allowed Joe to try and teach him how to drive stick. As a result, their entire journey was riddled with stalls and speeding.

Cut back to real time; and there’s suddenly a big heavy award waiting on their drinks table outside where the rest of their cast mates are chattering away excitedly and waiting for Rami to come back so they can further congratulate him. Little did they know that he was currently being pushed up against the wall of a toilet cubicle. He won’t be ready to come out until a while.

Joe starts to finger his way through the knot of Rami’s bowtie. The actual _knot,_ he wasn’t one to scoop so low as to have a clip-on. While Joe works on undoing, there’s a moment left for him to gather his thoughts up and consider continuity as an issue. If anyone were to point out just how ruffled Rami’s clothes had become after blindly following after Joe into a bathroom, there would be a problem.

With no time to protest, Joe slides it off his neck and drops it at their feet. Onto the dirty, piss streaked ground.

“Ah. That’s expensive—“

“And in my way.” And with that, Joe unbuttons Rami’s collar and invites himself to the flushed skin hiding behind it.

Soft sighs ensue, Rami can’t manage to keep his lips closed against the battle that Joe’s putting up against his neck. He knocks his head back against the tiled wall behind him, not bothering to consider the germs, and flaunts the length of his tanned neck for Joe. It’s his property now, Rami will take anything and everything he offers from this second onwards.

It was almost immediate, after winning two Globes in one night, it was expected for the cast to be excited. Joe, however, had just about latched his hands onto Rami and drove him into the nearest private area; which just so happened to be a bathroom. He'd been growling into his ear all night, promising things that sent shivers down Rami's spine. Rami supposed he was proud of him.

Joe has a pattern; he’ll trace his target with the tip of his tongue, drawing out quiet noises from Rami whilst doing so, then he’d latch his lips around the area and suck and nibble, he’ll bite and gnaw at the flesh until it’s red and Rami’s almost whining from sensitivity. Then he’ll soothe the skin back down with his warm tongue, reminding him in a somewhat caring way that it’s all for two-sided pleasure.

And good lord, will there be bruises.

Joe’s hands are latched onto Rami’s ass. Pulling him forward into the heat of his own looming body. Rami rocks against him, wanting, needing, lusting.

“I’ve just got one exception,” Rami’s huffs out through a lisp, his hands are smoothing down Joe’s arms, tying to get his attention, “listen, I just, my only exception is that we take our blazers off. Don’t want them getting dirty.”

Joe looks into Rami’s lake-grey eyes and begins to grin slowly. Rami notices distantly that his fingers have already tucked themselves underneath the hem of his dark blazer, ready to be ripped off at first notice. “Planning on getting filthy, are we?”

It sucks a laugh from Rami’s chest, “You naughty, naughty boy.” he quips before hooking his hands around the back of Joe’s neck and pulling him forward. It's so unlike Joe and to be quite frank, Rami wants it to never end.

His lips are soft to press against, they open under him and Rami doesn’t hesitate to push forward with his tongue. Joe is positively vibrating against him, hands now working on getting his blazer off without stealing back Rami’s hands from his nape. It’s impossible.

Rami stops scratching at the short hairs there briefly in order to shuck off his jacket; he lets it drop to the floor along with his bowtie. It hurts him to do so but Joe Mazzello’s hands are back on his ass and they’re digging into the meat there, and for the time being that’s all he cares about.

“Yours, off.” Rami mumbles against wet lips. Joe brings his arms behind him and removes his blazer too, it’s a shade lighter than Rami’s, will probably display the dirtiness of the floor more obviously.

Without realising, his body stiffens slightly.

“Back here, babe.” Joe growls into his mouth, his teeth are secured around his swollen bottom lip and he’s _tugging_.

He’s right. Rami’s mind is going all over the place. First it’s winning Best Actor and now it’s a deafening make-out session in a public restroom with Joe, his conscience can’t handle it all at once. His fingers start to feel tingly with arousal, they’re latched back onto Joe’s neck and he’s clawing his way through the hairs there.

Relax, he’s got to relax. He needs to be in the moment.

And as if it couldn’t get worst, with Joe fighting over his lips and tongue, there’s suddenly a thigh hitched between his legs. It presses upwards and Rami bites back a grunt.

“God,” he whines, Joe’s hands push harder against his backside and encourage Rami to ride his thigh; so he bloody well does. He grinds down onto him, trying to smoothly rock his hips but ending in stuttered bursts as the excitement of it hits him all at once.

“That’s it, Rami. That’s it,” he’s sighing deeply into his ear now, nippling at the lobe and tracing the curve of his shell. Rami’s mewling in no time, rubbing his hard length against Joe’s cushioning thigh.

It’s all for him, he realises, Joe is doing this all for him. He’s allowing him to let go, and he loves him for it. He takes a deep breath, its interrupted by his own barely stifled moan.

It feels so good to finally let go of the professionalism he’d been keeping up all night. To know that he’s not on camera anymore, he’s finished having to make a grand speech, to keep sitting up straight and make sure no one suspects that he’d rather be at home; he doesn’t need to think anymore. He just has to stand back and enjoy the feeling of being utterly pliant in someone else’s trusting hands.

There’s only one thing that stopping him from dipping into it completely; and that’s the fact that he forgot to thank Joe in his speech. He was ridden with guilt the second he stepped backstage, after knowing he’d been missing something the entire time whilst in spotlight. It had been Joe-fucking-Mazzello.

No better time to bring it up than the present.

“Joe—I’m sorry,” he says quickly, and quietly.

Rami tries to be mindful of their public spot. He’s panting now, it’s embarrassing just how turned on he is by getting himself off on Joe’s leg. His hands are clinging to his biceps, covered by the thin material of his white dress shirt.

“What? Don’t be.”

He sounds out of breath too. Rami feels that he, too, was hard and pressing against his hipbone.

“I didn’t thank you up there, I—I’d meant to thank you, I just,” he was aware that he was whining, his voice high and breathy, he couldn’t help it for Joe had latched his mouth back onto the skin just behind his ear. It was driving him crazy, sending pleasure waves right down to his dick.

And goddamn, he’d thanked Lucy so thoroughly. Admitted his love towards her (he did love her, dearly) and everything, all while Joe had been sitting next to her in a seperate room; watching Rami on the pixilated screen and most likely waiting loyally for him to be mentioned. He’d truly let him down.

Joe is back to sucking and nibbling, leaving saliva traces that were chilled by his own breath. “I know, it’s okay. I wasn’t expecting it, it’s fine.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Rami’s hips are becoming more erratic, he continuously pushes himself down against his thigh with a touch more recklessness in every thrust. He needs to get this all out before the night is over. Out of breath, “I couldn’t have done it without you—never would have gotten it if it wasn’t for you— _fuck, ah!—_ t’was all you, only you,” Rami knocks his head back loudly, he’s close and speaking fast, “ _hnng, shit—_ I love you, you’re the light of my life, I—“

“Shut up.”

Then the pressure is gone. Joe’s heat us gone, and suddenly Rami opens his eyes to see him drop to his knees. They hit the tiles with an unsettling sound and the air is punched from Rami’s lungs.

Oh, _yes_.

Joe starts at Rami’s zipper frantically, getting it open within a matter of seconds and instantly diving his fingers between the hem and his skin to pull the material down his own quivering thighs.

Rami only lets himself breathe again once he can feel the hot wetness of Joe’s mouth around him. There’s a palm against his base and a tongue playing with his slit, and for the first time in an entire year — nothing else matters.

He’s loud, too loud, because Joe starts to run a hand along his thigh, swapping between sucking at his head and shushing him with a tone that screams amusement.

“Rami—shhh, babe, gotta be more quiet,” it’s as close to begging as any of them were gonna get. They’re totally alone.

Joe really goes down on him then, pushing Rami back against the wall with a hand against his jutting hip and allowing his mouth to take more of him hostage.

Rami can’t help the moan that escapes from his lips, his jaw was slack, inviting all noises created from the back of his throat out into the open. He wants to show his appreciation towards this man, who’d once risked everything for him, who is _currently_ risking everything for him; by sucking him off in a Beverly Hilton bathroom.

Whether that’s returning the favour later that evening in their hotel room, or vocally expressing just how much of an impact he has on him. Which, at the moment, was a helluva lot, Rami’s knees are ready to give in at any second.

“ _Christ_ ,” Rami keens, not knowing whether to watch the stretch of lips around him or knock his skull against the wall and focus on the stained ceiling above. Everything feels like too much, he doesn’t want this to be over too soon but he isn’t going to last long.

His hips pump, their goal to hit the back of Joe’s throat, uncertain as to if it’s possible or not, but sure as hell trying. Joe’s face is red, with saliva lining his chin and slicking up Rami’s cock. It’s such an explicit view for Rami that he dares himself not to think of his own mother, waiting outside with the rest of their friends. Possibly still in tears with pride.

Forgetting; he decides to threat his fingers into Joe’s overgrown browning hair. He’s at a perfect height for Rami to tug and twist at his silky locks, to stare down at the crown of his head and wonder when his hair had begun losing its redness — all of this done with a consistent stream of whines and pleas coming from his own mouth.

Joe reacts perfectly, humming against Rami’s dick every time he pulls sharply, and sending an electric shock through his body that reaches the tips of his toes. The whole thing is exhilarating.

Then the door opens. Rami doesn’t heard it at first, every other noise in the room sounding distant and muted, but Joe stills immediately.

It shuts loudly.

 _Better not be someone we know._ But what are the chances that it isn’t? This is a Hollywood event.

Rami’s hands remain in Joe’s hair as they both keep as quiet as possible, listening intently to the echoing footsteps against the tiled floor. The shoes make their way towards the urinal, and fuck, Rami doesn’t think he’d be able to stand here with his cock in Joe’s mouth whilst someone relieved themselves for an entire minute. He was too close, too riled up and excited.

“Rami? Joe?” _Oh, for heaven’s sake._ “You two still in here?”

It’s Ben. The youth in his voice evident along with his English lilt. His words aren’t hushed either, because they both know that there has to be one of them in here; only one of the stalls is locked. Rami feels himself panic, though not softening at all; he’s _so close._

He looks down at Joe with anxious eyes, silently asking him what their options are. Joe meets his gaze and smirks around him, breathing harshly through his nose, which Rami prays Ben can’t hear.

Joe starts to move again, much to Rami’s horror. He tugs on his hair viciously, warning him to stop or else there will surely be consequences. Joe takes it as encouragement to hollow his cheeks out more than ever and start back up on him.

Rami feels like he’s going to choke on it all, the vibrant pleasure, the fear in his mind yelling for him to stop, the fact that their blazers are still on the floor and if Ben were to just take a quick peak underneath the stall he’d see Joe on his knees—

“Yep.” he says weakly, forcing his voice out as evenly as possible.

Joe is challenging him. And it’s hot.

There’s a laugh from outside their door, “Rami, what the hell are you still doing in there? Feel alright?”

_Oh, please go away. Just walk away._

Now he’s concerned for his own wellbeing, all while Joe works hard on getting him to reach the back of his throat. His knees are shaking, as are his hands, the ones he buries deeper into the birds nest that Joe calls a legitimate hairstyle. It’s an overload on Rami’s mind.

“Fine, I-I’m fine. Just—“ trying very hard to not let the groan pass through his teeth, Rami pulls harder at Joe’s strands, hoping to hell that he can feel the burn on his scalp, “needed some a-air.”

“In a toilet?”

_For fuck’s sake, go away._

“Yep.” it comes out strangled. It’s obvious to everyone.

Rami shuts his eyes hard. This is the end, his stomach dropped ten seconds ago and he can feel the buildup in his pelvis. It’s terrifying; he’s going to come in the presence of Ben Hardy, and not on purpose either. Joe is relentless.

“Okay…” Rami suspects that Ben’s started to get the hint, “In that case, do you know where Joe went?”

Rami’s entire body is hot, his temples feel like their steaming whilst his crotch feels like it’s been set on fire. But he can’t let himself go with Ben here, he won’t let himself. He can’t do it for the sake of everyone in the bathroom.

“No— _ah, fuck—“_ it slips out. Suddenly he’s just moaned loudly and his voice is echoing off the lone walls and coming right back to him. That’s the last straw and everyone knows it. Joe almost laughs, if it wasn’t for what’s keeping him occupied. The hairs on his arms are standing.

Ben begins moving towards their cubicle, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 _What does it take for you to get the fuck out of here?_ Rami wonders furiously, ears red-hot and teeth grinding. He will not allow himself to end here.

“Yes! Yes, I’m great! _Please!—“_ it ends with a beg, not at all directed towards Ben but instead at Joe, who’s taking his sweet time and teasing his swollen head. This is the closest thing to torture that Rami’s ever going to receive — it’s still working a treat.

Finally, and quite suddenly, Ben understands what is happening behind their painted green cubicle door.

“ _Oh, God._ Okay. Okay, I—that’s, I’ll be outside.” he stumbles on his own words, his feet making a hurried dash towards the door. And that’s when Rami finally comes undone, ripping at Joe’s hair in a last-second warning as the door bangs shut and he lets himself go halfway down Joe’s throat.

Rami sinks down to the floor almost immediately, he’d only been held up earlier by Joe’s arm that pressed his hips against the wall. Now he lays his back flat against the tiles, legs tangled around Joe’s form on the ground.

It takes a minute before either of them can breathe again.

“Want me to…?” Rami reaches towards Joe’s pants, but a hand catches his wrist.

“Already dealt with.” his voice is torn and rough. Rami looks down to see that, indeed, a dark patch has bloomed along the front of Joe’s trousers. He’d managed to come in his pants as if he was back in twelfth grade.

Rami surveys his face, he’s blushing, cheeks pink and flushed; whether that was from embarrassment or the fact that he’d just sucked a dick, Rami didn’t know.

“Impressive.”

Joe laughs softly, it resonates in his still pounding heart. “Thank you.”

They sit there. Rami suggests that they get ready to go back, they’d managed to catch the suspicion of one friend, where they then blew their cover and sent him traumatised to relay the information back to the others. Rami wonders if Ben really would do that.

They unlock their cubicle and walk towards the sink below the stretched mirror. Rami gets started on putting his bowtie back on.

“What are you going to do about your pants?”

Joe’s fixing his tie, “Does blowdrying it work?”

“Well, it’s not exactly water.” he earns a guilty chuckle.

“Maybe one of the waiters has a spare pair lying around.” Rami agrees reluctantly.

Joe’s voice is ruined, Rami admits to himself. His forehead sweaty, his hair an absolute mess; it’s obvious what they’ve been up to. There may have been a chance to clean themselves up convincingly enough, but neither of them can rid the smell of sex.

“Right, let’s go.”

Rami looks back at him, shocked. “You’re planning to go back out there sounding like that?”

“What’s wrong with me now?”

“You’re—you should like you’ve just sucked a dick.” Rami smiles widely, allow the excited giggle to escape his lips.

“And proudly so.”

“You can’t,” he laughs behind his wrist, a habit of attempting to hide his overbite, “everyone’ll know.”

Joe places his hands on his hips and leans back to look Rami up and down with a certain glint in his eyes. “Maybe I want them to.”

“Joe,” he starts but Joe takes a step closer, placing a palm on each of Rami’s cheeks.

“Plus, Ben already knows.”

“Joe.”

“Alright, alright.” he leans forward and places a kiss on Rami’s lips, slow and languid. Rami wants to wrap his arms around Joe and never let go, instead he lets himself be kissed and hums appreciatively against Joe’s gentle smile. “Come back in here with a few champagnes and I’ll pop them down the chute. It’ll fix me right up.” his thumbs rub at the skin beneath his eyes.

“I really doubt it, but okay.”

Joe pushes Rami away with a hand splayed on his chest. “Don’t let anyone see you! Since you’re so uptight about it.” he’s just about grinning from ear to ear. It warms Rami all over to see him this happy.

“We both know I’m much stealthier than you.”

“You better stop teasing me or else we’ll need to pick another stall.”

“I’d like to see you try!” he retorts at the door, pulling it open and exiting smoothly back into the world of celebrities and expectations. Then, before it shuts fully behind him, Rami sticks his head back inside through the gap. “I love you.”

Joe watches him by the sink, a smile playing on his lips. “I love you, too.”

Rami doesn’t know how to identify the expression he feels his face shift into, but his inside are singing, he feels as if he’s on a sugar-rush. Looking into Joe’s adoring eyes, molasses brown with hints of gold and green; Rami knows everything’s perfect.

Ben’s face turns bright red when Rami openly asks the waiter for a spare pair of trousers once he’s back at their drinks table. His mother stares questioningly and Gwil chokes on his martini, no doubt been informed by Ben. Rami smiles knowingly behind the lip of his glass.

With an award in his hand and a surprise getaway to the bathroom; the Golden Globes weren’t all that bad.

 

**Author's Note:**

> //it took a lot of strength for me to not orphan this, but i going to stay strong and keep it on my acc. a step in a new direction, you might say.//  
> also i would love any creative criticism, or compliments (im a slut for compliments), or just anything in general. sometimes words speak louder than numbers :'')
> 
> look forward to a joe/rami fic that addresses their time filming the pacific - no one's published one of those yet and im fucking excited to write one


End file.
